Mission X
by Lucidrealist
Summary: The morning where the safety of London would be breached. An MI5 investigator was called in to put a stop to the murderous devastation aimed at the Grenadier Guards by X. But this time she will be a lethal weapon: an assassin of legendary skill. She is constantly keeping out the grasp of death and tightening the noose of justice. (Original Fiction)
1. Chapter 1

The Guards would note his absence and alert others; which left him vulnerable. Vladimir made a poor attempt at shrugging off his concern of being alone but could find no comfort in it. How did he feel about the present situation? He couldn't say, his feelings had changed since the discovery at The Nijmegen Company. He could not decide whether he felt indignant or grave, one emotion overpowering the next before he could identify the last.

The dismay of having a guard assassinated had swept through the Company - Shocking as it was, was that not what they expected since the first homicide attempt or at least the second? - It had not been as evident as they had thought. To speak the truth, they didn't note any suspicious happenings that night at all. How blind could they have been! Was there not any evidence that supported this murder inquiry?

The murderer had certainly succeeded in making himself memorable: The Company had always been conscious of the lives they had to protect and the lives which could create a ruse, although at times they didn't want to. They didn't want to class this suspected lonesome, sadistic, megalomaniac as a threat. But the killer had created that possibility and it was the company who would now have to live with it. The triumph of having wounded the Nijmegen's pride, as well as their reputation, had been as devastating as the murder had expected. Vladimir wondered how many extremists would now take advantage of the occasion.

If civilians were asked to depict what impression the Grenadier Guards and the Nijmegen Company elicited many would describe a powerful force driven by the heavy heart of duty to protect the monarchy and fight with bravery in the front line. They were depicted as an impenetrable shield, not one other forces would belittle. They would wonder how little effort they had put in into protecting the Queen as well as each other. But in reality, they had done everything that was in their power to repel terrorists. What talk their little hiccup would cause, what nonsense would be circulated!

Vladimir wasn't certain why he had been instructed to make his way to The Buckingham Arms. He was sure that he had heard his Colonel contact, and successfully gain the attention of, MI5. Why they need to choose him as an applicant to use to their avail he didn't know. Thankfully the service's feelings towards him being selected were neutral, but he feared that they wouldn't reach a conclusion with his compliance and intelligence alone. The way they worked would always remain a mystery to him and no amount of that was worth contemplating since there was nothing that he could gain from it. But yet, he still did - and Vladimir had to give them credit for it.

In the hours that had passed since being informed of MI5's intentions, he had almost come to understand why they needed an active Grenadier Guard at their disposal but he didn't approve of it. How dangerous it would be to let The Secret Intelligence Service into his life! He would become more vulnerable than he was at present, his name would be widely spoken off, and where he travelled he was sure that the Psychopathic Megalomaniac would follow. He had every reason to believe that rumours would reach the murderer about his interference and be fearful of them.

Walking through the entrance of The Buckingham Arms was an uncomfortable affair. He was still grieving for Christopher. In spite of not having spoken about his friendship with the gentleman publicly, his colleagues noted the bond he and Christopher-Lee maintained -similar to that of two siblings-. He reflected on the subject of his friend. Why was he murdered? Did he know that he was going to die? He continued to muse about his deceased companion and he was just about to formulate some answers when he heard someone approach him.

"Mr Smythe I presume?" inquired a stern voice.

There was a brief silence between them. He didn't feel threatened by her but he was curious about what MI5 intended to do with him. If only Vladimir could ask her freely: What have you planned? What rules must we abide by? Will I be in danger? Because it is making me distressed that I do not know. Rather than gather the eloquence he possessed and console his worries, he stood and offered her his hand. Greeting her with cordial civility.

She beheld the gentleman as he spoke. She now understood the degree of The Nijmegen Company's authority and the pressure they applied to their personnel. Only a fool would mistake his unsuited demeanour for humility. She tried to take pity on the gentleman that stood before her, but she couldn't; She understood how difficult it must be for him, to be swiftly employed by MI5 -after the recent affairs- with little knowledge of the endeavour or outcome, however, she had experienced worse.

He stood next to the bar silently with his arms folded and his head turned towards her, his face bearing a smile which she could only describe as charming. She admired his figure from her position: Vladimir was a tall, well-developed man with pale skin and broad shoulders. His manner, she could not help but note, seemed to be unnaturally reserved. What caused him to act in such a way? The Agent rarely allowed herself to imagine what soldiers experienced when they were ordered to defend their countries which mercifully surrendered under the protection they provided. It must be a burden to carry such a task for months.

She introduced herself as Vivian and went on to explain the details The Company had provided on the homicide account, as well as the assurance of the Field Marshal's confirmation of the account. She explained it vaguely and quietly to avoid civilians overhearing the sensitive information.

Vladimir nodded in understanding not wanting to be reminded of his friend's death any further.

"I am aware that I am rushing you, however, due to the severity of the recent events we must get you to a secure location quickly. We have two witness protective housing options available for you, we can rehouse you in the east of England immediately this will involve you leaving all your commodities and loved ones for security's sake-" She suggested "Or you may stay in your current home but have a designated MI5 agent live with and shadow you for the duration of this investigation, however, this is the least secure option."

Vladimirs stomach dropped, how was he supposed to make such a decision? He turned away and pondered for a moment forcing his shocked expression into submission - To speak the truth, he'd rather not leave his possessions and loved ones behind - He had learned not to rely on luxuries when in service due to the possibility of being deployed elsewhere but found their absence a hindrance. He humphed behind his palm, so long as he was safer than at present he didn't care about how much securer the east of England was.

"The latter is fine" he agreed, rising from his seat.

She nodded in understanding and gestured towards the door. Vladimir was quite taken back at the efficiency of the situation, he swore that they were in the bar for no longer than 5 minutes. He gave a psychological shrug, what did he expect? Hollywood films rarely gave an accurate representation of the secret services and the encounter needed to be quick to ensure his safety.


	2. Chapter 2

Their eyes had met only once during the car journey to Greenwich, very briefly, but still long enough to elicit an air of curiosity towards each other rather than one awkwardness or intimidation. He yearned to know more about this strange woman who sat beside him, she appeared extremely dour, why so? He had made it evident at the Buckingham Arms that he lacked the eloquence to resolve his curiosity. He had hoped if he looked at her long enough she would guess his intentions and respond.

"How come you live in Greenwich?"

Vladimir raised a brow, not once had he told her where he lived. He was just about to confront her on the subject until he reminded himself of what her occupation was. There must be a great deal of information about him which she had access to - some of which he would much rather forget himself, but no matter how much he tried to be disgusted - he could only feel indifferent.

"I used to live in Somerset but moved closer to London because of work, Greenwich had adequate housing which I could afford at the time" He embellished his response with his hands.

He paused for a moment and reflected upon the brief conversation they had at the Buckingham Arms, "You gave me an option to stay at my own home, however, an agent had to shadow me. Who will that agent be?"

"It has been arranged that I monitor you, unfortunately, this cannot be changed."

He retreated to the window gave a melancholy sigh. At present, he'd much rather be at home on his own knowing Christopher was still alive and ignorant of MI5's existence, but that was not to be. This crime would be resolved or archived and soon enough he would be at work and carrying on as usual.

They continued to exchange questions about the arrangements for the duration of the ride to Greenwich, hoping that the opportunity would provide some clarity on the subject.


	3. Chapter 3

With Vladimir's guidance, Vivian located his house. She couldn't decide how she felt about his home. She was surprised at how grand it was: the house was detached and had numerous trees; more than she could count, and the garden was well kept despite having some unkempt areas. She desperately hoped the inside of the house reflected the same quality.

She strode to the boot and removed her small suitcase before entering through the back door.

The kitchen had been newly decorated: with white reflective tile flooring and marble counters. The shelves were dotted with dainty green plants and herbs. It had a very feminine appearance and made her question if this was designed to his taste or a woman's. There was no evidence to suggest he was married: he wore no ring. A girlfriend, perhaps? It was a question that had to be answered, she understood how imprudent it would be to enter the home of a man in a relationship and associate herself with him.

The kitchen opened straight into the lounge, where Vladimir was standing.

She arched an eyebrow and wondered to what extent her expression betrayed her. No, she decided. The rest of his home did not reflect the same quality of the garden or the kitchen. A sea of dirty blue carpet lined the lounge floor, the staircase and - presumably - the upstairs; Two worn leather armchairs occupied the centre of the room and faced a TV mounted above the fireplace. She reminded herself not to spend a significant amount of time in this room.

Vladimir continued to guide her upstairs; engaging in light conversation about mundane schedules and the locations of certain rooms. She had to give the poor man some credit: to readily accept a woman - which he regards as a stranger - into his own home and treat her with the utmost civility, Vivian wondered how many people would take advantage of such a situation? She was relieved at the sight of the guest bedroom: One could say it appeared cosy rather than small.

Silence descended upon the bedroom as Vladimir left her to unpack her belongings, recognising she may need some time to adjust. The agent took the opportunity to muse over the murder inquiry becoming increasingly vexed by the possibilities it had created. Vivian knew the police would find nothing of interest in the first investigation; Very few believed in justice and consequence if the crime scene produced evidence of being committed by a controversial figure or group the case would be dropped out of fear of being chastised by the public.

Vivian balled her fists as if to protest MI5's decision to place another agent in charge of the investigation. Why did MI5 select another detective to use at their disposal? Vivian was seasoned in her sector and her reputation pursued her. She did not elicit the trappings of vanity, she considered herself moral and just. Many archived reports were branded as 'resolved' because of her assistance; including inquiries that influential individuals wanted to remain unsolved. Is that why another applicant was selected? Do they have a secret to hide?

Downstairs Vladimir slumped further into the leather armchair: his hands palming a frosted-glass tumbler. He had insufficient desire to engage with odious tasks of the day. So, instead poured himself a glass of whiskey. More mundane concerns began to press his thoughts, could he continue working? He doubted it. If this was to be, how would he afford to maintain his home? How would purchase food? pay bills? and so-on. With the aid of whiskey, he forced his thoughts into submission; subduing any physical expression which elicited his concern.

"Isn't it too early for that?" Vivian said reaching the base of the stairs. She had wanted an opportunity to speak with him and to become better acquainted, no better opportunity had presented itself until now.

With no hesitation, he responded in an equally teasing tone "You met me in a restaurant at a bar"

At this, she chuckled and sat in the seat adjacent to him. He guessed her intentions, her sudden friendly demeanour was a ruse. He did not dislike this advancement - on the contrary, he rather enjoyed it. She was still an enigma: he couldn't describe the expression she wore; He very much doubted she would reveal her true nature to him this readily - if not at all. He had made several assumptions about her character based on what her occupation appeared to be, however, they were not well founded. He was silent at first, but then could not resist the temptation to interrogate her.

"How come you work in the UKPPS?" he presumed.

"I don't, I'm a detective; I have been for the last 6 years, however, I did work for the UKPPS temporarily, I'd imagine that's why they've given me the responsibility of maintaining your safety"

He was momentarily confused but continued.

"They didn't put you on the case?"

"No-" She smiled thinly "- I have a habit of solving crimes which many don't want to be solved"

He could not console his worries now knowing another agent was on the case, he surely hoped they would be successful. In response to his nerves, he reached for the cross that adorned his neck as if to fumble with the chain.

"Are you Catholic?" Vivian inquired, at once noticing the cross he had pinched between his thumb and fingers.

Vladimir scoffed "Not a very good one; I just like the sentiment"

Not sentiment Vivian thought, but _faith_. If he truly believed in it. Then he, like millions of others, would be miss placing their faith in the wrong ideology: a _religion_. Vivian had never discussed her beliefs with another person, she was reluctant to share her innermost feelings and opinions with others. She sincerely hoped he did not possess the naivety associated with faith.

8 hours had passed since the incident had taken place and she was certain the media would produce reports quickly. Perhaps the morning news could offer some clarity on the subject. She asked Vladimir to turn on the TV and surf news channels. They didn't have to wait long for a report to broach the subject.

_'Breaking news just in, a Grenadier Guard by the name of Christopher-lee Thompson was found dead at Buckingham Palace at 1 am this morning. New Scotland Yard are currently investigating the cause of death, more on this story later. Now, for the weather ahead-'_

Vivian sighed at the mention of 'the weather_':_

She feared she was losing her sanity, was she the only person who noticed the absurdity of the circumstances. A seasoned soldier has been found dead inside one of the most secure buildings in England; No one saw an assailant, a witness or evidence to suggest the killer would strike again. Yet Vladimir was placed into her care - with what appears to be no inclination. MI5 knew more than they let on, something was discovered that evening.


End file.
